Another installment into my Faith universe.
Read, review, let me know what you think. There's no graphic to go with this, but if you want to Youtube the song, it's from the musical, Into The Woods. It's called No One Is Alone. It oddly fit with what I had envisioned for Faith.
Mother is not here now, who knows what she'd say. Feel you've lost your way? But you are not alone.
Exhaustion didn't even begin to describe the feeling that seemed to envelope Will McAvoy and his body. It was something deeper, something more, but he couldn't close his eyes. Not for a second because he knew as soon as he did, sleep would take him, and with his luck, disaster would occur.
It was inevitable. The disaster. The pain. The – everything seemed to have piled up like a Jenga puzzle and all that had to happen was the for the wrong choice of piece for it to crumble.
The game started halfway through the broadcast when Will heard the familiar two short buzzes coming from his phone. Mackenzie wasn't in, she was dealing with a sick Faith, and a sick one and a half-year old was not something they wanted to bring into the office. But it was past eight and if there was anyone who knew where he was at eight o'clock it would be Mackenzie. But the buzzes came again and he would reach over, silencing the phone, and then it would start-up again. No one was saying, mentioning a commercial break so he let his phone go to voice mail every time.
That was until Jim's voice fluttered in his ear, telling him to throw it to commercial. He did and the doors opened and there was Elliot in his suit, mic'd and ready to go. Will looked at his phone, Mackenzie had texted him 911, and his heart dropped. He looked over his shoulder and there was Sloan standing in the middle of the newsroom with his coat and briefcase, his clothes from the day on her other arm. He would have to change in the car.
And he did. In surprising speed. Sloan road with him, in front, but with him, talking to him, telling him what Mackenzie had told her.
The line of information had gone from Sloan, to Don, to Jim, to Will. Don brought in Elliot, Jim was – according to Sloan – going to meet them at the Hospital with the rest of the staff when they all could get out. They'd come in shifts, relieve them if needed. They'd be there. It was Friday. They weren't needed back until Monday.
He had information thrown at him from left and right, Doctors, Nurses, lab technicians, Sloan yelling at him about Mackenzie and it wasn't until he was in the middle of the Emergency Room, surrounded by beds that he had enough.
"Just tell me where the fuck my family is," Will ordered.
"Right here," he heard, the familiar, faint, scared voice belonging to Mackenzie. Her face was pale, eyes rimmed in red, her face completely void of make-up.
Will had her in his arms immediately, wrapping her in a tight hug. He felt her muscles relax, but stiffen again at the sharp shrill of a baby crying.
"She's in there," Mackenzie pointed, curling her hand in a fist by her cheek. "They just put an IV into her hand, they're trying to hydrate her."
Will pushed open the sheet, dropping down into the chair that he figured Mackenzie was in and leaned over the railing of the bed that had his daughter. He brushed his finger across her forehead, curling a piece of hair up and out of her eyes. The tears in her eyes were large, threatening to fall and they did on a sharp intake of breath.
There was a nurse in the room with them, writing things down on her little pad before giving them a small smile and leaving them alone.
"I'll be outside," Will heard Sloan say. "The staff is coming soon. Jim, I think was behind us."
"Thank you Sloan," Mackenzie had said and seconds later she was behind him, her fingers kneading into his shoulder.
He grasped her hand, his fingers weaving in between hers, and squeezing.
Mackenzie came around him, her fingers slipping off his shoulder to bring down the bar of the bed and slipping into it with their daughter.
Faith, curled herself into Mackenzie's side, her tiny hand coming to Mac's leg. It was the first time Will had seen the seemingly large IV in the delicate small hand.
"What happened?" Will asked. "Before the show you said she was fine."
Mackenzie nodded and brushed Faith's hair back as the girls sobs slowed. He realized then that the tears, despite her continuing to sob, had stopped. The big crocodile tears were the last of what she had. That worried him too.
"I was putting her in bed and she threw up," Mackenzie said, her voice tired and raw. "It was the fourth time in the past half hour. Her forehead was burning and so I brought her here."
"And the 9-1-1?"
"I texted that to you when they actually admitted her," Mackenzie said. "They don't have a bed in the child's intensive care unit. This is the best they have."
Will nodded.
That seemed like days ago, Mackenzie and the Doctor's telling him that his daughter was suffering from a disease that many babies got. Babies caught the virus by touching objects and then putting their fingers in their mouth. Despite the normalcy of it, children still died from it. And that was what sent Mackenzie into a tail spin, forcing Jim to take her home to shower and change. She had been in the same clothes for two days.
Faith was asleep, her little head resting against the pillow, her light brown hair matted against her forehead because of the sweat. She was being re-hydrated, but not enough for the doctor's to take out the IV. She ate nibbles of food until her eyes went wide like she was ready to throw up again and Will pulled back, throwing the rest of her food away.
He checked his watch and then checked his phone. Nothing from Jim or Mackenzie. He was finishing up a text to Jim, checking on Mackenzie when he watched as Faith opened her eyes, her face scrunching up as if to cry. She lifted her right hand, the IV hand and winced, gasping in pain.
"Yeah, don't do that, knucklehead," Will said, pressing his hand over her little one. "You look a lot better. You want to try to eat something?"
She shook her head, her face still scrunched up, her little brows furrowed. Will's phone chimed and he couldn't help but laugh.
She's bleached me into a corner.
It was the text from Jim with a picture of Mackenzie in her old clothes with a mop and a bottle of bleach and a bucket of water.
"Mom's going a bit crazy," Will said, messaging Jim to have Mac use the Lysol spray that was under the sink instead. Bleach would make the baby sick.
"Ouch," Faith said, holding up her hand as far as she could lift it.
"Yeah, ouch," Will nodded, putting his phone down on the bed, leaning over the railing. "It's what happens when you stick everything in your mouth."
She furrowed her brows.
"Mom is going to buy you new toys," Will informed her. Mac hadn't out right said that but if the bleach was anything to go by, the woman was going to strip the apartment bare and make Will buy new things. That he was sure of. That was just the type of woman she was when it came to Faith.
He also knew that Mackenzie was going to beat herself up over the fact that Faith got sick. She cleaned everything all the time. She had a packet of baby wipes, hand sanitizer and little wash clothes in her purse, or the baby bag. She wiped down her desk when she brought Faith over to work. She cleaned the seat of the grocery cart, and the hand bar; obsessive, yes, but it made Mackenzie feel better.
His phone chimed again. Another message from Jim.
She wants to move. Too big of a place to clean.
Will laughed and punched a few buttons on his phone.
"Hey Faith, look at me," Will softly ordered. The girl shifted her head enough to roll it towards him on her pillow, her hazel green eyes bright. "Smile for Mommy."
The little girl did, pained, tired, but it was a smile. It was enough for Mackenzie.
Show her that. Tell her to change and come back.
Will smiled at Faith again, brushing his fingers along her hair-line. He picked up the bottle of snacks Mackenzie had brought with her from home, baby snacks. He popped the top and put some on the lid, offering one to Faith. She opened her mouth and he popped it right in. He waited. That was usually enough for her eyes to widen and then to deny any more. But she opened her mouth for more.
They were going to be fine.
It was in the middle of the night when his phone went off. The sharp shrill ring that the new devices, the one his daughter bought him in excitement because she had money to spend, sounded off. It drove Mackenzie crazy, but the woman slept right through it. Probably used to it by now.
The name on the screen made him straighten up and get out of bed. The last time he answered a call from Faith in the middle of the night it sent Mackenzie into a panic. She had the worst insomnia, his daughter did. And now that she lived three thousand miles away, a three-hour time difference, four in the morning for him was right around when she'd be crawling into her place at one in the morning.
"Faith," Will greeted when he answered the call.
He heard the sniffle, the clearing of her throat and then the faintest, "Daddy."
"Faith?" Will said again, interest now in his voice. He looked back to his closed bedroom door before stepping onto the terrace. It was the beginning of summer and the temperature was nice.
"It's over," she stated. "My marriage. It's over."
He was closing the window as she spoke. He took a seat on the lounge chair, leaning it back, expecting this phone call to last a while. He would probably be able to watch the sun rise.
"You just got married," Will said. It had been about nearly a year and a half since she had gotten married. She had gone to Mexico for her honeymoon, moved to California and that's where she was for the past nine months. "What do you mean it's over?"
"Divorce papers showed up at the office today along with a picture of Sabrina and him." She was angry and it probably had been hours since it happened. "He was trying to show me what an asshole he is."
"Faith-"
"No Daddy," Faith interjected. "He is. Always was one. And I was to blind to see it."
"Did he tell you anything?" Will asked. "I mean – were there signs?"
"Signs- what the fuck are you talking about, Dad?" Faith cursed. Will shook his head. She only cursed when she was drinking.
"Before we got married, way before we got married, Mom cheated on me, with an ex-boyfriend of hers," Will told her. He couldn't remember if Faith ever knew the full story about what happened between them and why they were old as parents to a twenty – almost thirty year old. "The first time. She cheated on me and I'm asking you were there signs with your husband."
"He's not my husband."
"Faith." Will groaned. "I swear to god, just answer my damn question."
"I don't think – no." Faith denied. "When I was gone for work he'd call me up at random times during the day, asking how I was, but I figured that was because he was being my husband and not fucking my co-worker."
"Jesus, Faith," Will sighed into the phone, running a hand over his face. It was way too early for Faith cursing. "Tone it down, will you?"
"You do it all the time, hippo," Faith said and that's when he heard the familiar clink of a bottle on the other side. "I'm putting the bottle in the trash."
"Thank you," He nodded as if he could see her. "Wait, did you just call me a hippo?"
"As in hypocrite, Daddy," Faith sighed.
They lapsed into silence, Faith breathing evened out on the other side, into pure silence. Will looked at his phone to make sure they were still connected. They were. She was probably falling asleep.
"Hey Faith," Will said softly into the phone. "Do you remember when you had that virus when you were a kid?"
"Not really," Faith admitted, her voice sounding tired from the events of the day. "You said I was pretty sick."
"Yeah," Will said. "You were there for almost a week. You wouldn't eat anything and it wouldn't stay down for a few days."
"Mom freaks when she asks me if I've eaten anything and I tell her no," Faith admitted to him. He knew that. Mackenzie was always worried about Faith. "I guess that's why."
"Yeah," Will agreed. "That's exactly why. But my point of this question was I told you something when you were in bed."
"What was it?"
"You're not alone," Will said. "You've got me, you've got your mother. This thing with your husband? It's not the end of the world."
"Then why does it feel like it is?" She asked and god she sounded like she was a kid again. When she fell and hurt her knee.
Will sighed. "It's going to. Sign the papers. Give them to your lawyer. Have her deal with it. When you get a chance come home and you can hang out here for a while."
"Work is here," Faith tried.
"You're a photojournalist, Faith," Will said, as if she had forgotten her own job. "You can work anywhere. Hell, you can work at ACN for a bit while you figure out how to start over."
"I don't want to start over I want-"
"I know," Will told her. "I do. I know. You were angry for a while today, then you turned to alcohol. You were going to drink yourself until you passed out, wake up tomorrow with a nasty headache and ask yourself what happened. I've been there. I know."
"How'd you get through it?"
"I didn't." Will told her after a brief silence. "It's just a topic we don't talk about and honestly, now? There are days I don't remember. But it took me five years. Almost six to just say fuck it."
"God, Daddy," Faith sighed. Her speech was starting to slur and he heard the shuffle of the blankets. She was crawling into bed which meant she was getting tired. Good.
"Yeah," Will agreed. "But I was alone when it happened. You're not. You've got people in your corner, Faith. I can easily call up Uncle Don and Aunt Sloan and you know the damage that woman would do."
Faith laughed a tired laugh, causing Will to smile. He watched as the lights flashed behind him, reflecting in the glass of the terrace, forcing him to turn. He could see the silhouette of Mackenzie in the kitchen. She came to find him when she realized he wasn't in bed.
"Hey Faith, Mom is up," He told her. "Go to bed, send the papers to your lawyer, and get on a plane. In that order."
"Yes sir," Faith mumbled. "And Dad-"
It was too late. He had hung up. He was stepping through the doorway, sliding it shut behind him, intent on going to Mackenzie when his phone chirped.
No one is alone. Love you ~F